


Dull Torpor Pulling Downward

by VictoriaSeneca



Category: Emmerdale, vanity - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27945854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaSeneca/pseuds/VictoriaSeneca
Summary: Set after Charity hits rock bottom after her breakup with Vanessa. This will be a difficult journey but Charity will discover the root cause of why she snapped after Vanessa ran off after the adoption hearing, begin to work on her issues and there is a happy ending. You might enjoy this story if you are into psychology of the human soul and the long term impact of childhood trauma. Written with love so I could root for a Vanity reunion whenever Vanessa comes back.
Relationships: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield
Comments: 24
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: discussion of suicide.

Charity considered the options in front of her as though her choice would influence the outcome of her day. It wouldn’t, of course. Whether she chose a bottle of whiskey, gin, vodka or rum, she’d still end up drunk and alone. She settled on the bottle of Patrón.

“C’mon mi amigo. May as well hit the road before the sheep do.”

Grabbing the bottle and her jacket in one hand and her keys in the other, Charity left Jacobs Fold with certainty of purpose. The early morning sun shone brightly as she covered the short distance between the back door and her car and she took a long deep breath of the chilled air before settling into her seat, buckling up and checking she had enough petrol to get her from Emmerdale to the shores of Saltburn.

The ninety minutes or so the road trip took gave Charity lots of time to think about the recent events that brought her to this point. The paranoia, the anxiety, the stupidity, the drinking, the digging in of her heels as she reclaimed “old Charity” with all of her flaws not to mention penchant for criminal activity. Noah wanting to join the Army came as no real surprise but his words to her the night before still stung.

_“You’ll never change. You’ll never put anyone ahead  
of yourself ever. _ _Not Vanessa, not me, not even Moses.  
What’s the point in you even _ _being here when you’re  
like this? There is none. You are worthless!”_

When she finally arrived at the seaside car park, she was eager to make her way up the cliffwalk knowing once she’d reached the top, she could start in on that bottle of tequila. As she climbed the path to the overlook she mumbled, “You prefer 2am bunk inspections, mess hall slop and being yelled at by a platoon sergeant all day so long as it means getting away from me, right? Fine. Leave me behind just like your sister Debbie did and Obadiah before her and Kathleen before him. One more blood relation who put me in the discard pile.”

Once at the top, she found a grassy clearing and sat herself down. She opened the bottle and took a first sip coating her tongue and warming up her mouth. She watched a flock of snow buntings shimmering as they flew about in the apricity of the winter sun. Obadiah fancied himself an amateur ornithologist and was always quoting useless facts about birds and pointing out the songs he recognized from the species he was familiar with. Their trips to the beach gave him a rare opportunity to show off his knowledge about birds that lived on the coast.

_“Charity, look that way. Looks like the snow buntings  
have made their way from the Arctic. Hardly ever catch  
a glimpse of them. They eat mostly seeds and both  
parents care for and feed the young even after they  
leave the nest.”_

Charity laughed to herself as she watched a chick swirling over the waves as they hit the rocky shore and with a sneer she shouted, “Must be nice, having mum and dad to look after you! Bet you’ll turn out to be the prize of the flock. Does your daddy come home drunk from the publick house every night after drinking the town dry? Does he call you a hard feather-faced little scrubber and hit you and shove you out your nest telling you you’re _always_ in the way?”

Her tone became more sullen as the shouting turned to a mutter. “Cause that’s what my father did to me. Never mind having both parents to look after me. I barely had half of one.” Cradling the bottle in her hands she continued, “A drunk half the time and a negligent monster the rest of the time.” Twisting the cork between her fingers, she addressed the Patrón directly. “You may have turned down the volume on _his_ pain but it only ever meant trouble for me. He said alcohols a curse in this family.” Then, looking to the horizon she returned to shouting, “Too right Obadiah! Too right! You may have been a slave to the drink but I’m looking to numb the pain on a more permanent basis now. This? This is just a temporary solution. I want it to stop for good. I need it to stop forever.”

With that, Charity stood up, grabbed the bottle by its neck and heaved it over the windswept cliffside watching its descent until it cracked open when it crashed into a narrow ledge at the bottom of the cliff face. The tiny shards of glass tumbled down into the low-lying dunes and ocean below. Again, she spotted the young snow bunting flying and followed it’s path high into the sky.

“Alcohol is the coward’s way. Obadiah’s way. I want to fly. I want to be free.”


	2. Chapter 2

Charity turned her attention to the logistics of it all as she peered over the cliff standing as near to the edge of the precipice as she could while minding the wind gusts. It would be just her luck to land on a scree pile and render herself paralyzed but alive. This required proper planning.

She started to wonder if this was close to the spot where Kathleen stood all those years ago. Was she staring out at the same view? Was this the same earth she felt beneath her feet? She wanted to know more. More details about who was the last person she spoke to, what was the last thing she said. What was the last thing she ate. What did the note say that she left behind for Obadiah? Did she write it in cursive? Did she mention Charity?

Charity wanted to know every detail about the events that led up to her mother ending her life because she could never fully know the answer to why. She wanted answers and a deeper understanding of her mother. Or maybe she wanted a deeper understanding of herself. How did Charity come to this place? How did she come to the conclusion that this unspeakable, bewildering, irrevocable and devastatingly sad option to end her life was best?

Charity looked down at her feet confirming they were still planted firmly on the ground. She thought about the last time she saw Obadiah and his words.

_“What does it do to a person when the_  
_one you love more than anything would_  
_rather take their life rather than stay?"_

She wanted answers from her mum.

“What _does_ it do to a person when the one you love more than anything would rather take their life rather than stay?” she asked.

Her eyes widened as she maddeningly stared into the space directly in front of her. “You left me. YOU LEFT ME KATHLEEN!” Her body shook as she bellowed out in anger.

“Dad may have been the one to push the self-destruct button on this defective, gobby, hard-faced little scrubber of a person but _you_ were the one who abandoned me!”

Her eyes welled up and her demanding tone turned heartbroken and despondent. “Did you think I’d be better off without you? You must of done. But I wasn’t better off,” she explained to the hollowness before her that embodied her mother’s presence and was as real as Charity’s pain.

“No matter how sad you were, no matter how tough it was, I wasn’t better off mum. I wasn’t! I _needed_ you and even if we lived in a tip and had no money and no fancy clothes you still could have protected me. Why didn’t you protect me?”

Charity sobbed as her thoughts jumped between the traumatic events of her early years and the unknowable sorrows her mother must have experienced to bring her to the same juncture.

“You must have been so scared, fighting this fierce battle in your head day after day, year after year until it consumed you. You had to let it go, didn’t you? You had to; and I forgive you because whether it was cancer or depression, you were still ill, weren’t you? You must have struggled with it for such a long time. You must have felt trapped like a person in a burning building who jumps to their end rather than be consumed by the flames. Jumping off this cliff was only slightly less terrifying, wasn’t it? I’m scared too.”

The sea mist, sparkling like golden glitter as it caught sunshine in its droplets, was a sharp contrast to the bite of the cold wind against Charity’s skin. As she squinted at the radiance and felt the cut of the chilled air, she snapped out of her fugue. She bowed her head down in an effort to block the chilled gust from her face and saw a rainbow of colors on the ground near her feet. Taking a few steps forward for a closer look, she bent down and parted the gorse and heathland grasses that had grown around a painted rock someone had placed in the spot. There was a message on the rock:

You Are Loved More Than You Know.  
You Are Stronger Than You Think.

Charity stood up again and looked around her as though she might find the person responsible for this serendipitous stone. She turned back again and addressed her find.

“Stronger than I think?” Then, with a faint huff, “Great. Just what I need now; platitudes and clichés. Shall I have a look around then? Maybe find another saying ‘That Which Doesn’t Kill Me Makes Me Stronger’? Another groaner if I’ve ever heard one. If it were true, I’d be able to bench press a whale. That which didn’t kill me left me wounded and here I am, still bleeding out and talking to sediment.”

The rock had Charity engaging in sound reflection. “That which didn’t kill me gave me a wicked sense of humor and a sharp tongue, but strength? I don’t know. Toughened me up I suppose. Made me a survivor. And 'loved more than I know?' ” Charity asked dripping in skepticism. “I don’t think so. Maybe if I was some scruffy mutt named Monty someone would give a toss. Shall I tell you all about the time my family rallied round a smelly animal quick as a flash but couldn’t be bothered to support me, to love me even when I told them I wasn’t ok? No one loved me then, except for Vanessa.”

Thinking of Vanessa instantly brought Charity back to a state of melancholy. “She was the only one who ever showed me any real compassion… the only one who understood that beneath this tough exterior was an actual person.”

The sea rumbled as wave after wave crashed against the cliffs sending spray upwards as if to wash away any remaining clouds in the sky.

“Vanessa. Oh, Vanessa. _You_ gave me strength. _You_ made me feel stronger. My kids loving me just a little bit; _that_ made me feel stronger. Discovering Ryan was alive; that made me feel stronger. A full till at the pub, _my_ pub, at the end of the night; that made me feel stronger.”

“You left me mum. If my own flesh and blood chose to leave me and forced me to fend for myself,” beating her chest with her open palm she pleaded her case to the heavens, “how could I believe that anyone would willingly choose this? Chose me? Ever since I found out how you really died, I’ve been thinking thoughts and imagining things _normal_ people from _normal_ families would **_never_** even consider. How foolish was I to think that Vanessa, of all people, would cheat on me? Yet, how easily did I jump to that conclusion because my own mother, my _own **mum**_ didn’t love me enough to stay? You left me and once you were gone,” her voice began to disappear, “…I wasn’t Obadiah’s daughter. I was just some kid who was in the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work was inspired by a young woman who has been placing colourful and positive rocks along the Cleveland Way and on Huntcliff in Saltburn in an attempt to prevent suicide.  
> [Link to article.](https://www.tuxtra.co.uk/stones-that-could-save-a-life-placed-on-saltburns-huntcliff/)


	3. Chapter 3

As her temperament began to shift, Charity’s anger and frustration began to crystalize into a series of truths and intentions. She had a lucid meditation that revealed the capacity to change and the power to forgive lay squarely in her own hands.

The ocean continued to stir, the waves continued to swell, and the sea mist continued to capture the yellow rays of the sun. Charity focused her attention on the light with such concentration that it became a laser beam penetrating her mind and allowing access to the deepest state of her consciousness. She knew there could be a more hopeful future than the one she imagined upon waking that morning. She understood that if she stopped fueling her negative ego, she could create her own reality and fulfill her own desires. Simply put, she knew she had to own her wishes, dreams and desires. She needed to transcend the expectations of her blood relations who would never recognize her potential. Likewise, she had to reject the hasty conclusions of the unacquainted who would judge her with prejudice.

Thus began her declaration; ferocious in spirit, earnest in tone. “I understand you had to free yourself from the pain and I forgive you mum, but I don’t want to destroy my kid’s lives the way you’ve done mine. For years, I’ve been drawing the wrong conclusions about myself. I never had a chance to know who I could be with a bit of care. I needed someone, _anyone_ , to love me just a little bit. I do _not_ want my kids to turn out like me. Acid-tongued, unable to trust anyone, feeling abandoned. _I don’t want them to feel like this!_ I can’t very well off myself and expect them to feel any other way, can I?”

Charity spun herself around and began to pace back and forth as if litigating her case to a courtroom jury. “If nothing changes, nothing changes. I can’t let my pain cycle ‘round again to my kids. _I won’t have it._ I **_can’t_** let the past hijack my future anymore.”

She admonished the Charity who woke up this morning ready to end it all. “Throwing myself over this cliff accomplishes nothing. It only guarantees that for the rest of their lives my kids will carry the burden of knowing their mother choose to end her own pain over the possibility of helping them handle theirs.”

She reassured the spirit of her mother. “I don’t hate you. _I don’t_! At this moment I reckon I understand you better than I’ve ever done before. But I am **_not_** you. I love those kids. I really do. Debs and me; we got to a good place before and we can get there again. I don’t know how Noah turned out as amazing as he has but that kid needs his mum and _God **damnit**_ I am going to be there for him. Moses; he is all the best bits of me and Ross. Ryan; I haven’t even begun to make up for all those years lost. Oh God, Johnny. Sweet little Johnny. He is every bit of sunshine in a tiny package that his mum is and I love them all and despite my best efforts they love me too. And that is enough for me.”

Charity shrugged her shoulders, looked up into the blue sky and matter-of-factly stated, “You’ll have to save this tragic ending for some other person. Sorry. Not me. Not today. Not ever.”

Charity basked in the warmth of the winter sun as it sat high in the late morning sky. “I’m letting it all go. The abuse, the neglect, the abandonment. _All_ the things that fueled the dumpster fire that has been my life. Gone. I’ve got love, from my kids, grandkids, occasionally from select members of my family. Vanessa. Well, she had done anyway. She loved and accepted me just as I was. What she saw in me was real and maybe I’ll never have love like that again, but I will always have my kids. And if I can forgive you mum, then I suppose I can forgive myself. I want my life to have purpose; I want to have love. It’s time I climb out of this hole I’ve been living in. I _don’t_ want to be the old Charity. I never really liked her anyway. I liked who I was when I was with Vanessa. That’s the Charity the world gets now.”

The storm of delusion that brought Charity to that cliff was not unlike the storm that battered her mother around in its waves and tossed her over the side. Charity allowed the storm to churn and exhaust itself until it cleared, and the energy of her thoughts slowed like a dying wind until she could hear her own voice again. Her voice was hidden in all the chaos that reigned in her head but finally, when the storm quieted, it emerged and it was immediately recognized by Charity as her own. It spoke to her with truth and without the expectations, assumptions or projections of others.

“Maybe not being normal isn’t so bad. Most people hear voices goading them to kill themselves. I hear voices telling me not to; and it’s my own voice.” Charity listened to her own voice and it brought a smile to her face. “I don’t want to die. I want to carry on. Ooooh, I’ve done a fair bit of damage in coming to this conclusion, haven’t I? Time to figure out where to start cleaning up this mess. No shortcuts, no hacks, no silver bullets. Just love.”

As Charity began her descent down the path, the snow bunting chick flew past the crevice in the cliff where its parents tended to other young in the nest. It flapped its long black-tipped wings with extra emphasis as if to bid a final goodbye to its parents, confident in its ability to care for itself.

Charity awoke that morning profoundly depressed and feeling like a waste of space. After an hour of wishing for death to take her, she remained alive and in need of a reason to get out of bed. She decided her purpose that day was to put an end to the relentless pain she felt. Yet she ended her day thankful that today was not the last one of her life. She remained sad and angry and in pain but she found the strength, just as she always has done, to carry on and face her demons and unlike previous times, this time, she would stop running from the intrusive thoughts and instead, face them head on. After years of struggling with the pain of being abandoned by those who should have been there for her the most, she made the wise choice not to abandon herself. She walked away from that cliff knowing that she was not broken at all. She was just a mother, grandmother, pub owner who struggles from time to time, which is to say, she was a perfectly normal human being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas.


	4. Chapter 4

It was afternoon by the time Charity returned to Jacobs Fold. Sofa cushions, magazines, empty cans of Alfie and a duvet were scattered about the floor. The mess was punctuated by the smell of stale food and alcohol. Dirty plates filled the sink and the garbage bin overflowed with takeout containers. Empty bottles of whiskey and wine littered the countertop.

The stench hit Charity like a brick and she became light-headed. Whatever hunger pangs she thought she felt near the end of her drive back from Saltburn were extinguished by the funk in the room. In an instant, Charity began to second-guess her decision to return to Emmerdale; to return to life.

Her muscles started to tense, she got sweaty at the nape of her neck, and her mouth went dry with anxiety.

She grabbed onto the arm of the sofa to steady herself and immediately sat hunched over, clutching her mobile phone to her chest. Depression and anxiety, like a predator waiting for an opportunity, had seized on her grief. The despondency she felt etched deep lines across her forehead and at the corners of her eyes. Charity admonished herself thinking she had one mission when she left that morning and could not even accomplish what should have been a simple task. Another failure. Worthless as a mother, worthless as a fiancé and worthless as a human; incapable of ending her own pain.

The light that crept into the recesses of her psyche just a few hours ago had dimmed and dissipated leaving only darkness.

With a tightness in her chest, Charity turned on her phone and opened her search app. She thought about the ad she’d seen countless times over the holidays and typed in “talk to us, Samaritans.” She clicked the link for the Samaritans home page. Right at the top of the page she saw “Contact a Samaritan” and clicked on it. She stared at the screen.

“Call us any time day or night.  
Chat with us online.  
Write us an email.  
Write us a letter.”

She had been listening to the sound of her own voice all day and just wanted someone else to listen. She dialed the number. It started to ring.

Someone with a gentle voice answered.

“Hello, Samaritans. Can I help you?”

Charity froze, unsure what to say.

“It’s ok if you need time. No rush. My names Marcus, what’s yours?”

Clearing her throat, she responded, “Charity.”

“Hello Charity. I’m glad you called. What’s on your mind?”

With a jumble of thoughts gyrating in her head, she answered, “I’m not sure you can help.”

“I’m here to listen.”

“It… it doesn’t make any sense really.”

“What doesn’t make any sense?”

“I haven’t called because I want to die,” Charity explained. Then, her voice breaking, “I’ve called because I don’t know how to live.”

“What’s making life hard for you right now Charity?”

“I make bad choices. One bad decision after another. I hurt people I don’t mean to hurt.” Charity looked at some of the photos sitting on the console table and shifted her eyes to review the many empty bottles and cans strewn about, “I drink, a lot. Not to take the edge off so much as to feel sedated. I just want to go to sleep all the time.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a rough time of late.”

“Of my own making. And I have a knack for not just making things bad for me but for my family, my kids.”

“Do you talk to them about how you’re feeling?”

“A little. But they mostly just tell me to get myself together. And I try sometimes. I get some momentum going trying to get back on track. But then I always manage to screw it up somehow. Every fork in the road, I pick the wrong direction and the only thing anyone can count on me for anymore is to let them down.”

“What makes you say you’ve let everyone down?”

“That’s what I do. My kids, my family, my fiancé. I’ve let them all down over and over. My fiancé broke our engagement, my kids don’t want to have anything to do with me and you know what? I don’t blame them. My cousin tried to help me, my son was ready to go to jail for me and my fiancé… **_ex_** -fiancé; she got me through so much but I pushed them away. It’s just as well because I am of no use to them and they’d leave me anyway, eventually. Just like my Dad did, just like my Mum. I’m always just going to be on my own.”

“What happened to your mum and dad?”

“Haa!” Charity shrieked, her eyes shiny with tears. “How much time do you have?” Charity felt like she was drowning in gloom. Despondent, she decided Marcus could better serve others more worthy. “Look, I’m sure there are other people who need to talk to you so I’m just going to go.”

“Charity, you can take as much time as you like and I’m here to talk to you.”

Charity stood up and feeling steadier on her feet, began to walk upstairs to get away from the scent and visual reminder of the cyclone that was the living room. She reached the top of the stairs and entered the bedroom cracking open the window and focusing on the cold draft streaming in. She thought back to standing on the cliff that morning. She could smell the sea mist and she imagined how the sun felt on her face.

Marcus, having not heard anything on the other end of the line for a few moments checked in. “Charity? I’m still here. Whenever you are ready to talk is fine.”

“I’ve had the kind of life that makes a person hard. I got pregnant too young. I was abandoned by my father. I was sexually abused. And, I’ve survived it all. Always found a way to scrape by, even come out on top from time to time. But there was always this lie hanging over me and I didn’t even know it.”

“What was the lie?”

Charity breathed in more cool air before responding. “My mum died when I was just a little girl and my whole life, I thought she died from cancer. Only, a couple years ago, I went and saw my Dad who I hadn’t seen since I was 13 and he told me the truth. He told me my mom killed herself when I was little. She committed suicide and left me behind.”

Her voice breaking again, she continued, “It hurt to hear my Dad say that. It hurt to think how she must have been in so much pain that she couldn’t go on. And I know what that pain feels like, ‘cause I feel it now too and I don’t want to feel it anymore. So, this morning, I went to the cliff just like she did and I wanted to end it just like she did.”

Tears ran down Charity’s cheeks as she explained, “I couldn’t do it. But it hurts so much.“

“It’s good that you decided not to. Can we talk more about what you’ve survived? Do you want to tell me what happened after your mum passed?”

Something about saying these things out loud, even with the tears it brought, made Charity feel lighter. She spent almost an hour on the phone with Marcus telling him her story.

Though they had never met before, Marcus was very easy to talk to. His voice was kind and not the least bit judgmental. He kept Charity talking and helped her recount all of the pivotal moments in her distant past that had been weighing on her. No matter how many times she fell silent, he encouraged her to keep talking when she was ready and continued to listen as she enumerated all her more recent regrets.

It was a tremendous relief for her to unload all of the thoughts that had been swirling in her head to an actual person. There was no scolding, no suggestion that she brought everything upon herself and no useless advice to merely “get over it”. After so much time, she finally felt like no one was talking _at_ her. He was just listening. He understood that nothing is that simple and that shaming a person into taking responsibility doesn’t work. It was only the second time in her life that she felt validated and heard.

After spending months making self-defeating choices and being in a constant state of feeling overwhelmed, emotionally drained, and simply unable to cope, Charity decided to seek counselling. She was ready to do the real work to feel better.

TWO WEEKS LATER

After several phone calls with various counselors as she tried to work out who best suited her needs, Charity began regular sessions with a therapist she felt comfortable with. Initially they met in person and subsequently, on account of the pandemic, they set up time to speak twice a week over the phone.

THREE WEEKS LATER (at the pub)

Knowing that Chas had cared enough to come home when Sarah called weeks earlier, Charity decided to let Chas know that she was getting professional help. Chas responded with compassion.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help. Do you want me to have the kids or …”

“No. No, I need to be responsible for them and I want them with me. I need to make sure Noah and Sarah stay on top of their studies and Moses needs to learn his phonics. I need to clean the house and cook them dinner. Well, order takeaway at least. And we have to figure out how to keep the pub going and I just need to be here and present. I just needed to tell someone what was going on and that someone can’t be Vanessa anymore.”

“I’m happy to be your second eleven. But Charity, a few months ago, you sort of said you felt like you were nothing without her.”

Charity nodded in agreement and explained her new perspective. “I was the best version of me I’ve ever been with her. But I’m not _nothing_ without her am I.” Though technically a question, Charity stated it as fact. “I’m still a mum, still Jack and Sarah’s granny, still your business partner. But, I’m not nothing. I need to at least try to do better without Vanessa.”

“Lofty goals?”

“It won’t be easy. But it Will. Be.”

“I’m here for you. Let me know how I can help.”

FOUR WEEKS LATER

After many weeks of not doing anything to draw ire from her family and with endorsement of the idea from Chas, Sarah and Noah returned to Jacobs Fold full time and Moses returned to his regular shared schedule with Ross. Sarah was never one to hold a grudge, Moses was happy to be back at his other home but Noah remained icy with Charity. He spoke only when necessary and only shared his thoughts about what to have for dinner or the status of his laundry.

SIX WEEKS LATER

Charity had made much progress in the way of developing coping skills for times when life threw her curveballs. She learned to recognize her body's reactions when she was feeling anxious and she used various mechanisms to calm herself first and control her impulses to act in a harmful way second. Her doctor helped her process her thoughts and see traumatic events in her life with intense clarity for the first time. There were many layers to sort through but with each passing week, she felt more at peace.

She felt better about her future most days but one thing that continued to weigh on her was her relationship with Noah. She wasn't making any progress with him. He remained aloof and unwilling to meet Charity half way.

At Jacobs Fold, she overheard his end of a conversation with one of his friends who was clearly excited about having gotten into university. Noah was properly congratulatory, but Charity could see that he remained aimless with regard to his own plans. As soon as Noah hung up his mobile, he was half way out the door.

“Noah, can I have just a second?”

“I’ll miss the bus. What do you want?”

Charity got straight to the point. “I just wanted to say that if you wanted to talk over what you might do about University, or the Army, I’m here to listen and I know I may have made you feel like I don’t take you seriously but I do.”

Noah gave Charity a blank stare, turned around and walked out.

Charity put on her coat and took a walk around the village. As she was set to return home, her phone rang. It was Uncle Zak.

“Hey Uncle Zak. Do you have some smelly shirts to donate and you meant to dial Barnardo’s but got me by mistake?”

“Charity love. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news about your father. Obadiah caught pneumonia and passed. I’m so sorry.”

SEVEN WEEKS LATER AND ALMOST THREE MONTHS AFTER RECEIVING VANESSA’S LETTER AND RING

Obadiah named Charity as executor in his will and she was working on filling out the paperwork online to apply for probate.

“Question Five: Do you have the mental capacity to make competent decisions as executor? Yes or No. Well, that’s debatable I suppose but I’ll go with YES for right now.”

Just as she hit “continue” on the government website, there was a knock at the door.

“Just a sec!” she shouted as she closed her laptop and walked to the entryway.

She opened the door, and there stood Vanessa.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After hitting rock bottom and contemplating suicide but choosing life, Charity has been in therapy for many weeks. A phone call from Uncle Zak delivers the shocking news that her father Obadiah has passed. As she is completing paperwork regarding her father's estate, there is a knock at the door. When she opens the door, she finds Vanessa standing there.

Charity stood stunned for a few seconds with her mouth hanging open until Vanessa broke the awkward silence with a small wave of her hand.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” This time, Charity broke another very long, very awkward pause. “I….. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“I heard about your Dad and I umm, I was over in Hotten on some business and thought I’d stop by to offer…. I don’t really know what. Condolences?” asked Vanessa, unsure of how Charity was feeling about Obadiah’s passing.

“Yeah, it’s a bit complicated I guess. But condolences work. Or, maybe offer a fancy nose rag to dry all the tears I’ve not cried?”

Vanessa cringed at how quickly Charity fell back into snark but let the response slide without comment.

Charity immediately regretted using the caustic remark.

“Sorry, would you….. do you have time to come in?”

“Sure, if I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Oh, just the carpet refusing to vacuum itself.”

Vanessa stepped into Jacobs Fold taking note that the place was actually quite tidy with clean floors and countertops, each throw pillow in its proper place, not a speck of dust anywhere. She also noticed that all the photos in frames and on the wall that had been there many months ago remained exactly as they were; not a single one removed. Vanessa took a seat on the couch as Charity walked towards the kitchen.

“I can put on the kettle, make you a cuppa?”

“Oh no, I’m alright, ta.”

Charity presumed Vanessa wanted to make her visit as brief as possible as she sat in the armchair, fidgeting like a child called to the Headmaster’s office.

With the sort of trepidation that comes with asking a question one might not want to know the answer to, Charity stammered, “So, how have you been?”

Vanessa responded with a bit too much enthusiasm and a wide smile, “Good!” Then, seeking to self-correct her patently false answer, she repeated herself again with less fervor and speaking through a clenched jaw, “Good.”

Matching Vanessa’s overzealousness, Charity responded, “Good!” in a pitch so high, she too revealed their chit-chat for the artificial prattle that it was.

The clumsy natter was followed by still more silence and an atmosphere more awkward than a Meghan Markle family reunion.

And then they both spoke at once:

“Hadn’t really thought that this- “ began Vanessa, just as Charity started to say “I wasn’t sure if I would be - “

They both stopped speaking as suddenly as they had begun.

“This is rubbish,” Charity muttered. Not wanting to leave those words hanging, she took a deep breathe. “Tracy tells me you’ve been helping Johnny read the cards I’ve been sending to him?”

“Yeah, well he looks forward to getting them at the end of each week. It was a proper good idea. I’m glad you thought of it. And thanks for letting me do the same for Moses.”

“Of course.”

“Sarah and Noah, they can’t be bothered with writing or reading things more than 2 sentences at a time. So, we’ve stuck to texting.”

“I know, teenagers, right?”

Charity shared an uneasy smile with Vanessa. Clinging to the armchair, her nails digging into the fabric, Charity decided to address the elephant in the room.

“Listen, I want you to know, I understand why you didn’t want me seeing Johnny. What you said in your letter about having his best interests at heart made sense.”

Vanessa had no expectations of how her first time seeing Charity since their split would go, but she had not anticipated having an unpleasant conversation.

Averting her eyes to avoid seeing any hurt on Charity’s face, Vanessa explained, “At the time I wrote it, word was you were having a hard time taking care of yourself let alone the kids so, I just thought it best to give you time to focus on self-care.”

“Well, that’s a generous way of putting it. You weren’t quite so diplomatic about why you were returning the ring.”

Vanessa steeled herself to maintain a calm facade before speaking.

“You know, I thought about it for days on end. Once the shock of it all wore off, I kept asking myself if there was _any_ way back. _Any_ way at all to make sense of what you did. I just kept coming back to the same conclusion. The same bottom line.”

Vanessa turned her gaze straight into Charity’s eyes.

“Even if it was just a meaningless one-off, you trying to justify it because you believed **_I_** was the one cheating on **_you;_** it was just beyond the pale, not to mention baseless and cruel.”

Vanessa stood up and began to pace as she continued.

“You making a scene, begging for forgiveness and thinking that I wanted to hear that you were nothing without me? _When_ have I ever wanted some co-dependent relationship where _your_ happiness was based solely on my love?" Vanessa began to do an impression of Charity at her most histrionic.  
  
' _How do I live without you Vanessa.  
You’re everything good in my life.’  
  
_"Did you really think I'd be swayed by the words to some stupid song?”

“I was a bit desperate I realize but I just…”

“ _Stop!_ Just _shut up_ and listen to me and maybe it will get through that thick nut of yours.”

Vanessa sat back down on the end of the couch nearest Charity not wanting her to misunderstand a single word.

“Did you even read the adoption papers we signed when you became Johnny’s legal guardian?”

“Of course I did.”

“Those papers said that the adoption order would result in Johnny becoming equally part of your family as mine.”

“I know.”

“They didn’t say anything about your stupid insecurities having any bearing on it.”

“I know.”

“I made you Johnny’s legal guardian precisely because I _trusted_ you to care for him even if something happened to me! Your begging and pleading and saying a life without me wasn’t one worth living… it was the _exact opposite_ of why I wanted you to adopt Johnny in the first place. The only thing I wanted was to know he’d be cared for and nurtured. That, and maybe a little bit of honesty from you.”

“I know.”

“You know nothing Charity! I was _never_ going to get honesty from you, was I? Just you trying to project your own knack for deception onto me.”

“I was so wrong.”

Once again, Vanessa stood and began to pace the floor, her head shaking as she reviewed the sequence of events in her head for the millionth time since that horrible day last October.

“Not once did I give you reason to think anyone else could even turn my head let alone reason to think I was cheating on you. **_While_** I was fighting cancer!”

“You never did,” Charity offered, a doleful look on her face.

Walking away from Charity, Vanessa recalled, “When I got the news I was cancer free, I was so happy. I cried tears of joy. No more surgery, no more chemo.”

Then, walking back towards Charity she added, “I didn’t even get twenty-four hours to enjoy knowing my body would no longer be toxic, free of the chemicals they dripped into me, free of tumors. Not even a **_day_** before you took every bit of joy away from me. And for what?”

“I am so sorry. You did not do anything that led me to make such a huge mistake. You are right. You _never_ gave me any reason not to trust you. It is all on me. I was…. confused. It was a massive error in judgment and….”

As Charity struggled to explain herself, Vanessa interjected on her behalf.

“…. And what? And an excuse to get some attention from a random bloke?”

“No. No!”

“Error in judgement? More like a delusional excuse from an unfaithful, egocentric liar!”

“Please Vanessa, please believe me that it happened because I thought you lost interest in me just like everyone I’ve truly, deeply loved forsakes me and leaves me on my own.”

Vanessa scowled, aghast at the suggestion. “Are you serious? You’re blaming what happened on, what, your abandonment issues with your father?”

“No. Well, yes, but it’s more than that.” Charity struggled to explain, tension showing in the way she flexed her shoulders and rubbed her temples with thumb and forefinger.

“Really, ‘cause it sounds like a rather convenient excuse. Jesus Charity, you had a neglectful father who abdicated his responsibilities as a parent, but have you really convinced yourself that somehow he and I are alike? You really thought I could leave you the way he did? And spare me the melodrama lumping him in with “everyone” you’ve loved. Your mother didn’t abandon you. She had no choice in the matter.”

Vanessa sat down again to put herself at Charity’s eye-level.

“What if I _had_ died from cancer? Would you run off with some random and leave the kids to fend for themselves because I “left” you in the same way Kathleen did?”

Charity picked her head up and fierily shot back, “ _Don’t_ say that. You are **_nothing_** like Kathleen!”

“No, I’m **_nothing_** like your _father_. I _might_ have been like your mother but modern medicine helped make me well. But you sure as hell can’t assign the sins of your father to your mum and don’t you dare assign them to me.”

Charity stood abruptly and walked away toward the center of the room.

“You don’t understand. You don’t get it.”

“Then make me understand! You threw away our family, our life together. Then you neglected your own kids and did all the things you should hate most about your father. The drinking, putting them dead last on your to-do list. Why Charity? How could you do that to them? To us?”

Charity fell silent as a soul-deep sadness took over. Closing her eyes, she began to untangle the web of painful memories that drove her to madness.

“That day at the family court. It feels like it happened yesterday. I was so nervous. But after they reviewed the social workers report and the lawyer said the rest was really just a formality, I was so happy. But you were, I don’t know, it’s like you weren’t there. You had this vacant look on your face as they explained how they’d replace the birth certificate with the adoption certificate making sure I was on record as Johnny’s legal parent. I was so worried about you. I mean, the adoption went through, you were coming home, there was so much to be smiling about but you just stood there, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. I couldn’t tell if you were lost in thought or what was going on. And when the lawyer asked you questions so she could cross the t's and dot the i's, you just answered in this monotone. We were gonna be a proper family again but, you looked and sounded like you’d just been given a death sentence.”

Charity turned around to face Vanessa who was taken aback by Charity’s disconsolate tone. That day at the hearing was a hazy memory for Vanessa and while she recalled being anxious about her final scan results, she didn’t remember behaving quite the way Charity described.

Continuing on, Charity joined the dots for Vanessa quietly and calmly. “I’ve seen that look before Vanessa. The last time I ever saw my mum, we were sitting in the living room, watching Danger Mouse on telly together just like we did every afternoon. Used to be, we’d both laugh like two little school girls, play Scabby Queen and tell jokes but then she got less chatty, less giggly and on this particular afternoon, she was just kind of there, staring into space. It was like, she was physically there, but she wasn’t really there. She was so distant. And then she was gone.”

“Is that when she went into the hospital for treatment?”

“There was never any hospital. There was never any treatment. My mother didn’t die from cancer Vanessa. She died because she killed herself. Kathleen committed suicide.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, Charity was surprised when Vanessa paid her a visit after hearing about Obadiah’s passing. After some chit chat, the gloves came off and Vanessa angrily demanded to know how Charity could have had so little trust in her that she believed she was cheating on her. Charity hinted that being abandoned by those she loved as a child was at the root of her issues and when Vanessa challenged her theory pointing out that Charity’s mother didn’t abandon her willingly, Charity revealed that in fact, Kathleen didn’t die of cancer but because she committed suicide. The story continues...

Vanessa had a puzzled look on her face and stood up, shaking her head in disbelief. “No, that can’t be right.” Not sure what to make of Charity’s confession, Vanessa closed her eyes and summoned her memories of the last time they spoke of Kathleen.

“We talked about it last summer after one of my chemo sessions. You remember, I was having a panic attack on the car ride to my mum’s house. You were trying to calm me down, but I was worked up and you said I sounded like a right divvy. I said we had to accept the fact that I could die, just like Victoria Wood and Alan Rickman and just like your mum did.”

Turning to Charity for confirmation, Vanessa recounted, “And you said to me, I know you did, you said….. you said….”

Charity paused before completing the sentence for Vanessa. Just long enough for Vanessa to recall what was said so that when she repeated it back to her, she could be certain it was true.

“I said… _‘Believe me Vanessa, you aren’t going down like Kathleen did.’_ ”

Vanessa remembered those were Charity’s exact words. Her legs felt like they might give way, so she sat back down at the end of the couch.

“But, I don’t understand. When… how long have you known this?”

Charity sat back down at the other end of the sofa. “You remember when I came back from Obadiah’s, I said I might never be ready to tell you what happened? I went to my Dad’s that day to make a fresh start, to close the door on that chapter. Instead, I turned the page and came to find there were more miserable horrors lurking. Turns out my life is more Greek tragedy than Julia Roberts film. Obadiah told me what really happened. Said he never told the family because suicide is a sin, and he didn’t want the family sitting in judgment.”

Running her hands through her hair from her forehead to the back of her head, Vanessa recalled Charity’s standoffish and agitated behavior in the day following her return from the visit with her father. “ _That_ was the thing that freaked you out.”

Charity turned to Vanessa, ashamed as she remembered her explosive behavior that day. “You really are the only one who notices when I’m dithering about something. Or maybe the only who cares. I carried that secret around with me for two years before it spectacularly blew up in my face. Parents are supposed to love and care for you. Supposed to be there for you unconditionally. It was bad enough being tossed aside by Obadiah, but finding out my own mum chose to end her life rather than care for me? She abandoned me just like he did.”

Fighting the tears welling up in her eyes, she continued. “I just, I couldn’t imagine _anyone_ who was important to me not deciding to do the same. I’ve lived my life being on-guard, always keeping some of the armor on. You were the first person I let in completely. The first person I trusted implicitly.”

“If you trusted me implicitly, then why’d you think I’d been cheating?” Vanessa questioned with a perturbed tone in her voice.

“It wasn’t _you_ I didn’t trust Ness. It was _me_. There is no explanation why my mum left me. There’s no valid reason my Dad tossed me out. Absent any logical explanation the only person I could blame was myself. I told myself that I had to be the reason, I _had_ to be responsible for it all. There had to be something wrong with me, something defective. I had to be unworthy of their love and I mistook that guilt, that insecurity, that feeling that I would **_never_** be worthy of true love as the reason that the woman I loved more than anyone I’ve ever loved in my life would leave me too. It was inevitable as far as I was concerned and that day in court, that moment in time, that triggered it all because I was too stupid to just ask you why you ran off. I was too sure I already knew the answer.“

Vanessa pressed her clenched fist against her lips as she struggled to digest what she was hearing.

“I’m trying to work out if this is meant to be an explanation, an apology or an excuse.”

Wiping her cheek, Charity sat up straight, stiffened her back and leaned forward slightly.

“ ** _Not_** an excuse. I’ll say it a thousand times if I have to, this is _not_ me excusing anything that I’ve done. This is just me trying to explain to you what I’ve come to understand about myself.”

The dubious look on Vanessa’s face led Charity to conclude she needed to provide details. She hesitated as she wasn’t sure how to spell it out without sounding like she was spewing psychobabble.

“Children who are abandoned as kids grow up to be adults who have a hard time forming trusting relationships. They feel insecure in romantic partnerships and they need constant reassurance that others love them and will stay with them. That day in court, that look in your eyes, it was a trigger that brought me right back to that last time I saw my mum. And my brain went haywire and I just ruminated over that moment and I became consumed with what I swore was the truth, which was that you were done with me. “

Perplexed by Charity’s clinical language, Vanessa asked “Why do you sound like you’ve read the whole self-help section in Waterstones?”

Charity let out a short sigh and quipped, “Just the shelves about personal growth and mindfulness. Didn’t think I needed to read up on aging or sexual instruction.”

Vanessa gave Charity’s cheeky reply the side-eye, glad for a break in the tension. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Never a dull moment with me, aye? I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“If it is for me, I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you. I can see why you struggled.”

“ _Struggle_ would indicate I still had some fight left in me, but, it was worse than that. After you rightfully slammed the door in my face, I started drinking. The more I thought about how I hit the self-destruct button on us, the more I hated myself, and the more I hated myself, the more I drank, which made me think more about how stupid I was and how much I missed you.”

Charity stood and began to pace as she painted the full picture of what Vanessa had heard bits and pieces of but had yet to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.

“The more I called you and the more you didn’t answer my calls, the more I sank into a pit of my own self-pity. I drank even more and, well, you get how the cycle went. When Rhona and Tracy took Johnny to stay with you, away from his home, I wanted to fight it, but I knew deep down it was the right thing for you to do. I could barely think about caring for the kids, and the more time went by and the more alcohol went down my throat, the more I couldn’t be bothered much to care for myself.”

Narrating her own story of the steps she took in her spiral downward was a dispiriting task for Charity, but she wanted Vanessa to know the whole truth.

“No one wanted to be around me so whatever bottle of wine was within reach became my best friend. I had Chas telling me in one ear not to be the person I was before the Bails trial, and I had Cain telling me in my other ear that ‘ _pity party Charity_ ’ was boring and I needed to go back to being the old Charity. They both meant well but their advice was off the mark.”

Charity held onto the back of the sofa for support.

“Sadly, I decided Cain’s absurd prescription to fall back into all my very old, very bad habits was the right choice. I kept drinking and I got back into scamming, looking for the easy payday. Christmas came around and everyone was so fed up with me, I didn’t get any invites for turkey and pudding. I wasn’t even invited to Chas and Paddy’s wedding, and it all sent me further down the hole. So, when the person I worked with on my first foray back into scamming came to me with another opportunity, I jumped in feet first, and the second job went a bit tits up. I didn’t turn down _any_ opportunity to distract myself from the mess that was my life whether it was scams, or drink, or….”

The tears that had been welling up in Charity’s eyes began a rapid descent down her face.

“Or what, Charity?”

“Or sex.” Charity fought to speak as she wept. “I made some really bad decisions Vanessa, including sleeping with the bloke I was doing these jobs with. And that bloke just happens to be Moria’s brother who just happens to be the guy in that photo Tracy sent you from the lay-by.”

Vanessa sat back as disgust and disappointment washed over her face, an aggressive wave of nausea threatening her stomach. Charity waited for some words of angry sympathy from Vanessa, anything to assuage the self-loathing she felt at that moment. She was met only with deafening silence.

“I just couldn’t get out of my own way. The family was done with me. Noah couldn’t stand the sight of me.”

As the volume of Charity’s voice rose and her speech became more frantic, Vanessa understood that Charity wasn’t yelling at her, but at the situation she found herself in.

“I would spend my whole day listening to this conversation going on in my head. Repeating over and over everything I’d done wrong. Berating myself for being so stupid, so selfish. For failing you and the kids and myself! It was never ending! And it was loud, and _noisy_ Vanessa. _Every_ criticism clamoring and clanging around in my head all day long, over and over again like a broken record, and it was exhausting, and it hurt. _It physically hurt_!”

Charity’s tearful pleading as she clenched her fists to her chest as if needed to stop her heart from bleeding continued. Vanessa just listened as Charity’s distress wrenched at her heart.

“There was no letup. No reprieve. I slept late to avoid having to face the day, to avoid having to face those thoughts that were always waiting for me. I drank so I could quiet them, but eventually, that didn’t work anymore. I was just being tortured by my own ruminations, I wasn’t coping at all, and I had no energy left to care about anything. I just wanted to end the pain. I understood how my mum must have felt because I believed that her choice was maybe the right one for me too.”

Vanessa, who hadn’t been able to take her eyes off Charity, asked, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I thought about it. I thought about it a lot and maybe, for some time, I decided it would be the way out. But I’m still here, aren’t I? I didn’t want to die, but I knew I had to figure out a better way to live. I knew I needed help. It hasn’t been easy Ness but, I found someone who’s been working with me, helping me. His names Dr. Haiber. He practices what’s called humanistic therapy and specializes in emotional dysregulation.”

“Emotional dys – reg….”

“Dysregulation.”

“Is that your diagnosis?””

“Dr. Haiber doesn’t like to label people with disorders. He doesn’t think a specific diagnosis is as important as understanding the symptoms and learning better ways to cope. It’s sort of why I liked him. Not big on labels. But anyway, ED is more of a symptom. It means I have a hard time controlling my response to certain triggers. I’m prone to bursts of anger, impulsivity, creating conflict. And when my emotions are heightened, I can’t always see the forest through the trees.”

“I see.”

“He’s been teaching me to recognize when I’m in a state and feeling anxious, to pay attention to how I’m feeling and how my body reacts. And we’re working on better ways to cope. Nothing magical really. I take a lot of walks now. Really getting my steps in.”

“Do you talk about your childhood?”

“A lot. I mean, he’s only been helping me for a few months but, we meet online twice a week and it’s been amazing really. I never feel rushed and I feel like we make a lot of progress each session. He um, he thinks I have a kind of PTSD related to feeling abandoned. That’s actually what it’s called, PTSD of abandonment. It means I’ve been conditioned to have a fight or flight response when I think I’ve been rejected. I sort of have a lens through which I see things that can turn a small slight into a much bigger deal than it was intended. So I have to work harder than most to put things in perspective.”

“What about now? I mean, how are you now? How are you feeling?”

“Most days, I’m OK.” Looking over to the photos behind Vanessa, Charity adds, “Some days, I’ll see something that reminds me of happier times, and I get sad. Sometimes I get angry. But then I remember that what’s passed is passed. And if I start to hear something upsetting playing on repeat in my head, I find something else to do that is productive, or at least, not destructive. I know that might not seem like a big deal, but it is for me. I have to forgive myself Vanessa. I’m not a bad person. I just did some bad things.”

Charity could see the wheels spinning in Vanessa’s head. “You’re well within your rights to say ‘I told you so.’ ”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, you warned me not to keep putting things back in the box. I should’ve listened.”

Charity walked back around the couch and sat near Vanessa unable to resist a sudden urge to be closer to her.

“You know Vanessa, I remembered you saying to me after the Bails trial that it was OK to admit if I wasn’t coping. You said it was OK to ask for help. If you hadn’t said that, if it wasn’t sitting in my memory just waiting to be called to duty, I’m not sure I’d be here right now. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”

Vanessa responded in the good-hearted way Charity had taken for granted for too long, “I do wish you had gotten help sooner, but I’m glad you’re getting it now. It’s never too late. And it sounds like you won’t be tossing entire lasagnas in the bin anymore just ‘cause someone shows up late for tea.”

“Ouch, kick my while I’m down why don’t ya?” Charity said, with a tiny chuckle. The two women sat in silence for a few moments allowing the remaining tension to clear from the room.

Vanessa’s phone buzzed with a text message alert. Looking down at her mobile, she explained to Charity, “It’s mum reminding me I need to head back now if I’m to keep my promise to take Johnny to the park before sundown.”

Charity had been planning to address something with Vanessa in the not-too-distant future but decided asking in person, now that the opportunity presented itself, might be best.

“Look, I don’t have it all figured out yet. I’m taking it one day at a time. Just to prove I’m still me and as nervy as ever, I was wondering if you’d consider letting me see Johnny.”

Vanessa immediately looked away from Charity, blindsided by the request.

“I know. I know I’ve just told you some stuff that would make anyone hesitate but, I wanted to be honest with you, about everything. It wasn’t easy but not much worth doing in life is. I’m still that little boys mum, I think about him every day and I swear I’m not trying to play dirty here and guilt-trip you into anything but Moses misses him too. Those two were inseparable for so long and yeah, Moses is resilient and he’s OK but he still asks about Johnny… and you. I want to be in his life.”

Vanessa was caught off-guard by Charity’s request and hadn’t had time to consider the implications of everything she had just learned. Yet, she couldn’t bear to respond with a hard “no”.

“Shouldn’t you take more time, you know, to get back on your feet?”

“I am back on my feet. Have been for a while now. I’ve got Chas in my corner. She’s been there for me. I’m running the pub. Haven’t missed a shift in months. I’ve got counseling twice a week. Been on time for every call. I have five amazing kids and two grandkids whom I love. I have strong relationships now with 5 of the 7. Noah’s being Noah and there’s still a lot of work to be done there. But he’s under my roof! Ness, please. I miss him.”

Vanessa tried to sound stern as she asked, “And if I don’t agree to it?”

Slightly crestfallen, Charity responded, “I know you love him more than anything in this world and I know you’ll put his best interests at heart. I’m just asking you to please think about it.”

Vanessa felt a sudden urgency to remove herself from the situation and acquiesced slightly.

“OK, I’ll think it over,” she said tepidly and with a sigh as she stood up and started making her way to the front door. She grabbed the door handle and stood there for a moment before turning back to face Charity.

“Charity?”

Charity looked up towards the entryway where Vanessa stood.

“Yeah?”

“I’m proud of you and all the work you’re doing.”

With that, Vanessa departed, and Charity was left to wonder if and when she would hear from Vanessa next.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charity explained in detail to Vanessa how her childhood trauma and the real circumstances surrounding Kathleen’s death impacted how she processed the moments after the adoption was finalized. She went on to summarize her struggles that have happened since their breakup and how she considered suicide herself but, instead chose to get help. Charity opened up about her resolve to do better and asked to see Johnny just before Vanessa departed.
> 
> This final chapter is a series of vignettes depicting what happens over the months that follow. I promise this chapter is misery-free.

26th February - Four days after Vanessa’s visit with Charity.

It was near closing time at the pub and Charity was wiping down a table when she got an incoming text notification. Pulling the phone from her pocket, she saw an alert indicating the text was from Vanessa and she quickly opened her messages.

_When is Moses staying with you next?_

Charity responded quickly.

_He’ll be here on the 5 th. Just staying over the wknd._

Charity could see Vanessa was typing a response back straight away.

 _I’m visiting with Tracy on the 6_ th.  
 _Shall I drop Johnny by yours for a couple of hours?_  
 _Say noon to 2pm if you’ll give him dinner._

Charity shouted “Oh my God, Yes! Yes!” to her phone and rapidly replied in a more reserved manner.

_Perfect. Can’t wait!_

2nd April

The first visit with Johnny went smoothly and Moses was thrilled to have a proper playmate to build his LEGO rescue helicopter with. A second playdate quickly followed. A third visit with Johnny found Charity having one-on-one time with him for an afternoon at the children’s railway park and unicorn hot chocolate at the cocoa shop near Vanessa’s mum’s house.

Confident that Charity was managing, and, seeing how happy Johnny was, Vanessa phoned with a proposition.

“I know Moses will be with you from Good Friday through all of April and I have a favor to ask.”

“Sure, name it.”

“I have a professional development seminar I'm completing. I’ll be doing most of it online but there are some surgical technique courses to cover and the hours only count if it’s done in person so I'll have to be in Leeds for a couple of days. Do you think Johnny could sleep over at yours for two nights?”

“I’d love to have him. Sure, we’ll have a great time.”

“I was hoping you’d say so.” Vanessa hesitated before adding, “Charity, these courses are important not just for me but for Paddy and Jamie too. It’s cutting edge stuff and if we all complete the course we’ll be the only practice in the area certified to handle this type of neoplasia which will really help the business.”

“I thought you were still doing locum work by your mum?”

“I was, but with all the newly adopted pandemic pets, they really need me back at the surgery. I’m moving Johnny and me back to Tug Ghyll. We’ll make a fresh start and stay with Nate, Tracy and the baby.”

Charity felt an immediate jolt of anticipatory excitement mixed with a bit of trepidation.

”You’re coming back? That’s great. It’s really wonderful and yeah, a fresh start, it sounds great.”

3rd May

Johnny doesn’t remember his old room at Tug Ghyll but is happy to be living with Aunt Tracy, big “Uncle” Nate and baby Frankie.

Vanessa and Charity were cordial to each other during the frequent handoffs of Johnny and Moses. Between busy work schedules and family, neither felt like they were deliberately avoiding the other. Yet, at night, visions of one another invaded their thoughts as they drifted off into sleep.

Vanessa wondered about Charity’s day. Did she have something to smile about? What colour lipstick did she put on that morning? Did she order a takeaway or just have Marlon fry her up an order of fish and chips? Which of Charity’s perfumes would she discover if she nestled her face in the curve of her neck?

Charity pondered if Vanessa worked at the surgery or if she was on the rota to cover the day’s call-outs? Was she wearing a jumper or one of her button-downs? Did she miss having Charity brush her hair before she went to bed? Did she miss Charity at all?

11th June

The magician who entertained the small group of kids gathered in the beer garden for Moses’ birthday was a big hit, as was Charity’s animated reading of _The Smeds and the Smoos_. The piñata seemed like a good idea until Charity discovered Moses had the worst sense of direction of any Dingle in history. After being spun around three times, he wound up for a big swing hoping to break it with a single blow but he accidentally swung the stick at her head. The pole landed right above Charity’s eye and although Moses wasn’t strong enough to make a deep laceration, he did manage to wound Charity enough to draw blood. Vanessa grabbed the first aid kit on their way inside to the kitchen. The women sat at the table as Vanessa began to clean the cut.

“It’s not broken through to the subcutaneous tissue. Just a surface wound. I think you’ll live,” Vanessa said with a cheeky grin.

She reached for the antiseptic wipes and dabbed the cut just over Charity’s eyebrow gently.

“Oww! That stings. You sure I don’t need stitches?”

“Absolutely sure. Now stop being a baby and hold still.” Vanessa held Charity’s chin with her fingertips and focused on the cut. She hoped Charity didn’t notice when she stared into her emerald eyes for a few seconds. “You should probably keep a tiny plaster on it just until tomorrow,” she added reaching for one in the kit and handing it to Charity to apply herself.

“Thanks,” Charity said, wondering if Vanessa noticed her breath hitched when she touched her.

10th July

Charity stood behind the bar of the Woolpack while Noah sat on a stool across from her.

“It’s enough money to pay off most of the debt you’ll have when you graduate from University and it’s all yours once you turn twenty-one.”

“Are you sure mum? What if you need it for some sort of emergency?”

“Oh Noah, your grandfather was always a mingy old man. Never lifted a finger to help me in all his years. Figures he can only find a way to do so once he’s dead. Just let me do this for you. Look, if you find yourself rolling in it once you have your degree, you can buy your mum a fancy car OK? But the money is yours and at least you know you won’t have that debt hanging over your head forever.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you works.”

Smiling from ear to ear, Noah walked around the bar and gave Charity a big hug.

“Thank you mum. You really came through. See you later for tea?”

“You bet.”

Noah headed for the door, bumping into Vanessa on his way out and the two exchanged quick pleasantries.

“Wow, he looks like the cat who just swallowed the canary. What’s that all about?”

“Oh, I just gave him some good news. Give me a moment while I etch the memory permanently in my brain. Rare thing that is, me making Noah smile.”

“Hmmmm, let me guess, you finally snagged him a PS5?”

“No. I just told him I’ll be paying off his university debt when he graduates.”

Vanessa’s eyebrows immediately drew towards the bridge of her nose.

“Really?” she asked, doubt threaded into her tone.

Pointing to Vanessa’s chest, Charity leaned forward and gibed, “You may want to button up. Your skepticism is sticking out.”

“Ermmm, sorry, it’s none of my business anyway,” Vanessa replied, flummoxed by the exchange.

“Actually, it _is_ your business seeing as how I’m going to need you to co-sign some paperwork for Johnny.”

“What’s this got to do with Johnny?” Vanessa asked, even more perplexed than the moment before.

“Obadiah’s estate has finally settled. Crusty git didn’t have a single thing of value to his name except for his bungalow, which it turns out, he had mostly paid down. Anyway, the sale closed a couple of weeks ago and after paying the estate agent, the solicitor and all the other fees, I deposited two-hundred grand in my bank account.”

“Oh my God! Charity, that’s a small fortune!”

“Too right. More than enough to help Noah, and, knowing my penchant for blowing money on unnecessary indulgences, I’ve gone ahead and set up trusts for Moses and Johnny for equal amounts for them to use for education or to start a business once they turn twenty-one.”

Flustered, Vanessa effused, “Charity, I don’t know, I…. I can’t let you do this. It’s a lovely gesture but that money is yours and you should, I don’t know, just spend it as you see fit.”

“Well, this is how I see fit to spend, or rather save it. Don’t worry, I’ve set aside a tiny bit for myself. Charity is my name after all, not my calling.”

Vanessa stood there in amazement unsure of what to say about Charity’s very out of character generosity.

“Look, Vanessa, you don’t _have_ to sign the papers. The trust can be set up with just one guardian’s signature. It’s just, it will be easier for him to access the money down the line in case something happens to me, which it won’t, but the bank suggested it. Ross will be the co-signatory for Moses so I just thought you’d want to do the same for Johnny.”

Vanessa struggled to find words, dumbfounded by Charity’s goodwill.

“Thank you. This is incredible. You’re incredible.”

Charity gave Vanessa a wink, then turned to fetch an order from the kitchen.

28th August

The weather couldn’t have been more perfect for the Hotten Food Festival. Many villagers showed up to support the Woolpack’s food stand including Vanessa and the kids. Charity worked the setup and early afternoon shift leaving Chas to handle the evening and cleanup. Vanessa, Charity, Moses and Johnny finished eating their burgers and chicken nuggets and headed back to Jacobs Fold.

“Will you both tuck us in again tomorrow night?” asked Moses.

“Hmmm, let your mum and I give it a think and get back to you tomorrow,” answered Vanessa.

“You always say that!” Moses countered.

The women laughed, turned out the light and headed back downstairs.

“Oh, they had the best time today didn’t they? And so did I. Thank you for making the time to have tea with us.”

“Me turn down a meal with all my favorite people? No chance.”

Vanessa blushed at being included in that group.

“Well then, I best be off. Thank you again,” Vanessa demurred and went in to give Charity a hug.

Charity was taken aback by the unexpected affection and initially hugged Vanessa back timidly but once she smelled the bergamot scent of Vanessa’s hair, she embraced her a touch more tightly.

Vanessa disengaged just far enough to look Charity in the eyes, and then turned and left Charity to her thoughts.

Charity was still frozen in place trying to figure out if something had just happened, or, if the hug was just a hug, when there was a knock at the door. She opened it up and Vanessa wasted no time wrapping her arms around Charity’s shoulders and kissing her sweetly. Charity responded by wrapping her arms around Vanessa’s waist and the women kissed with the same passion as their first kiss.

They paused to catch their breath, resting their foreheads together, eyes closed.

“See you tomorrow?” asked Vanessa.

“Absolutely,” whispered Charity.

31st August

“I better get going. Tracy will have gone to bed by now so I can avoid the third degree but I want to get back before Frankie wakes for her midnight bottle and Tracy realizes I’m not home yet.”

Charity snuggled into Vanessa’s back, tickled her ear lobe with her nose and murmured, “Action replay tomorrow night?”

“You can bank on it,” Vanessa promised.

2nd November

The chilled air of Fall brought busy days with the boys at school and life getting back to normal as the pandemic finally subsided. Charity and Vanessa spent every spare minute together always trying to carve out alone time for stolen kisses, quickies in the car and when time and available babysitters permitted, romantic overnights with each other.

Sitting in the café with Rhona, Vanessa was battling some lingering doubt.

“Ness, I’m not suggesting she should be your religion, but at some point, you just have to take a leap of faith. Look at me and Marlon. I couldn’t promise him I’d never wobble back into my addiction. There are no guarantees in life. But I guarantee you, you’ll regret all the happiness you deprive yourself by being too cautious.”

“I think I already do regret the time we’ve not been together. It’s been a year already since the adoption went through and we’ve yet to live together like a proper family. I guess you’re right though. Not like I can guarantee my cancer won’t come back.”

“Oh Ness, c’mon, one year cancer free is a huge milestone.”

“I know, I’m just saying, I’ll stay vigilant, go to all my scans, eat healthy, stay fit, but it doesn’t change the fact that it will always be out there as a possibility.”

“OK. So yeah, on some level, you’d be asking Charity to take a leap of faith too. Vanessa, does she still make your heart beat a bit faster?”

“Yes.”

“All I know is you don’t chose to love someone because you _think_ you can live with them. You love someone because you _know_ you can’t live without them.”

6th November

“Beer lines are cleared out, menu specials have been updated and the rota has been amended to account for Bob’s vacation time.”

Chas looked slightly bewildered as she offered, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to ‘organized Charity.’ But I do enjoy her being around. So go on, enjoy your day off. What’ve you got planned anyway?”

“Ugh, Vanessa’s been reading _Haunted Castles of England_ and she’s turned into Yvette Fielding. I have a full day of drafty drawing rooms, moldy tapestries, and creaky staircases to look forward to. Good job I love that spicy ray of sunshine.”

Marlon twisted his face in mild disgust.

“OK, first of all, ewww. And second of all, it actually sounds like fun. I mean how many of us have lived among all these castles our whole lives and never bothered to visit them? It could be fun to play tourist in your own backyard and the possibility to see a ghost is, in my opinion, an added bonus.”

“Marlon, I work at a bar. I’m surrounded by spirits all day long.”

“Yes, but not the kind who can give you a fright.”

“If I _wanted_ to feel green about the gills, I could stay here and eat a piece of your Shephard’s Pie. I don’t need a road trip for that. Honestly, the only thing I’m looking forward to is our lunch date at the New Malton. Garlic prawns and a glass of verdejo will power me through.”

Paddy added, with a premature smug look on his face, “Don’t indulge too much, you don’t want to ruin your _ghoulish_ figure.”

Marlon offered Paddy a congratulatory high five.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having visited Pickering Castle and Helmsley Castle, the pair stopped for a delicious meal and then headed to Ripley Castle, their final stop of the day. Vanessa had been sharing all the details behind the apparitions known to haunt each castle while Charity humored her and feigned amusement no matter how tall the tale. As they walked the grounds, Vanessa relayed the story of the spirit who allegedly haunted the home since the 1600s.

“Legend has it that Sir Ingleby’s daughter fell madly in love with a brave but brash knight from Scotland during the Bishop’s War. Of course, their love was forbidden, and they could never marry. Having been denied true love in life, she continues to look for her brave knight in death as a ghost, hoping their kindred souls will meet in the afterlife. Supposedly, if you stare into the Knights Chamber just before sundown, you can see Miss Isabel Ingleby pacing as she waits for her true love.”

Charity looked down at her watch.

“Let me guess. You planned this perfectly so we could stand here like idiots, staring into a dreary old castle looking for goblins?”

“Well, it’s hardly a dreary looking castle. It’s quite beautiful actually and I thought you liked the Gothic Revival architecture? All the ornate parapets and projecting buttresses were lovely.”

“I’ll tell you what’s lovely is the curves on your projecting buttress.”

“Charity!”

“Oh, c’mon Vanessa. We’ve been at this all day. I’m just a little punchy, OK? Go on, look for Miss Jezebel…”

“ ** _Isabel!_** ”

“Right, Miss Isabel as she pines for her brave knight. No rush.”

Vanessa turned towards the Knights Chamber and began to stare.

“Sky’s turning all orange in the distance. Perfect timing.”

“Yes, perfect. Do you see anything yet?”

“Shhhh, Charity! I need to concentrate. Why don’t you try to look with me? Two pairs of eyes are more likely to see something than one.”

“Oh, I trust if there’s something to see, you’ll see it. Carry on.”

Vanessa stared and stared. One minute went by, then another, and another. Charity passed the time scrolling through her Instagram feed.

“Oh my God! I see her Charity! I can’t believe it! I see her pacing!”

“Ummm, babe, I think you’ve lost your mind or at least your vision staring into the sun as it goes down?”

“No Charity, she’s beautiful. She doesn’t look like what I’d imagine a ghost to be like at all. She’s got long flowing hair.”

“Did you dig into the surgery’s drug cabinet before we left?”

“Charity, you _must_ look. It is the most unbelievable thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Fiiiine. I shall embrace this tomfoolery if it will make you happy.”

“It will. Come stand over here. I’ll show you where to look.”

Charity plodded over to the spot where Vanessa stood and Vanessa pointed to the window where the Knight’s Chamber was. “Hold your head still, stare straight into that window and don’t move until you see her.”

With those instructions, Vanessa stepped a few metres back and watched as Charity fixed her eyes on the window and waited for something to happen. Barely twenty seconds went by before Charity began to fidget.

“Not _seeing_ anything!” she imparted in a sing songy tone.

“Give it a full sixty seconds and I promise you’ll see something incredible.”

Charity rolled her eyes and huffed, “Fine,” as she fixated her sights once again on the window.

One minute went by, then another before Charity, exasperated by the moment cried, “This is absurd Vanessa and the suns now more down than up so maybe I’ve just missed the moment ‘cause all I see is a crow sitting on the ledge.”

With that, Charity turned around to find Vanessa down on one knee, a smile on her face sourced entirely from the love she felt in her heart.

“What you doing on the ground?”

“I guarantee that we’ll have tough times, and I guarantee that at some point one or both of us will want to get out, but I also guarantee that if I don’t ask you to be mine, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life because I know in my heart you’re the only one for me.”

“Why are you down on a knee and are you quoting Runaway Bride?”

“That bit was yeah, but now comes the part where I go off script.” With that, Vanessa reached into her pocket, pulled out a box, and opened it to reveal a diamond ring.

“Oh my God!” Charity brought her hands up to her face finally realizing what was happening.

“No no, don’t hide your face. This is a first for me so you’re not gonna want to miss it.”

“You’re doing it again, you’re doing Runaway Bride.”

Vanessa beamed as she continued. “I love you Charity Dingle, and your life _should_ be a Julia Roberts movie; at least the ones that had a happy ending. There is no one else who makes me feel so valued, and respected and supported. You inspire me with your resilience, you make me laugh all the time, you make my heart skip a beat more today than the first time we kissed, and I’ve never felt so at peace with myself than I have when I’m with you. I am so excited about every moment I get to spend with you, and if you’ll have me, I’d like to spend all the rest of our moments together as wives. Will you marry me?”

“Oh Vanessa, that was a really solid, really good proposal. You can totally tell that was not your first draft. So yeah. Yes! ** _You’re damn straight I’ll marry you!_** ”

Vanessa stood up, walked over to Charity and placed the ring on her finger.

“I hope you like it?”

“I love it and I love you, and just to be sure no one tries it on with you, would you be OK wearing a ring too?”

Before Vanessa could answer, Charity unzipped her jacket, reached down into her top and pulled out a necklace. Hanging from the necklace was the ring Charity had given to Vanessa the first time they got engaged.

“You still have it?” Vanessa asked, tears in her eyes.

“’Course I do. I wear it as a good luck charm sometimes, or, whenever I need reminding that if you’re lucky enough to find someone who shines so bright, they can lead you out of the dark, you should never let them go.”

Charity removed the ring from the necklace and placed it on Vanessa’s finger saying, “Now we get our happily ever after.”

The women shared a chaste kiss and a lingering hug as the last rays of the setting sun wrapped around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My only goal when I began writing this story was to craft some explanation that would make me want to root for Vanity as a couple again. I appreciate anyone who has taken the time to read this through even though it wasn't particularly uplifting or the escape most of us want during these troubled times. Hopefully, this final chapter has made up for it somewhat.

**Author's Note:**

> If suicidal thoughts are surfacing please seek help. The following resources exist to support you through this hard time:  
> IN THE USA - Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255 or text “HOME” to 741741 to reach the Crisis Text Line. IN THE UK - Call the Samaritans. 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Call 116 123, Email jo@samaritans.org https://www.samaritans.org


End file.
